


It's Quiet Uptown

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherhood, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Clone Troopers Speak Mando'a (Star Wars), Drinking to Cope, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hamilton References, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Music, John Mulaney References, Late Night Conversations, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Missing Scene, Post-Episode: s04e07 Darkness on Umbara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “It’s quiet uptown,” Boil hiccuped. His cheeks glistened with tears. “I never liked the quiet before.”
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	It's Quiet Uptown

The strobbling lights stopped about thirty minutes ago, vacuum sounds replaced the DJ, and the droid servers powered down for the night. 

Fives had never stayed long enough to see 79's empty, yet here he was sitting at the abandoned bar shoulder-to-shoulder with Boil who had been staring at his last shot of Corellian vodka for the past ten minutes. The bartender caved in and poured him one more, but told him ‘this was the last one’ and even locked up the liquor as emphasis. 

While Boil held his liquor better than Fives by a longshot, there was no avoiding the killer hangover that awaited him the next morning and probably the next three days too. 

Boil’s efforts to temporarily wipe his memories were in vain, however. The alcohol only seemed to amplify his mood. 

Fives sat there in silent support, well prepared to listen whenever Boil was ready to talk about it. That so happened to be at 0045, exactly fifteen minutes before the club closed. 

“He was so excited when Commander Cody put him in charge—” Boil finally spoke; his voice sounded hollow and far away— “He said it was an important mission.” 

There was a beat of silence before Boil swung back his drink, probably not even tasting it. 

“I should’ve been there,” he said, turning over the glass in his hand absently. 

A similar phrase played on repeat Fives’ mind too. The instructors on Kamino drilled into cadets that they should never leave a soldier behind. What if Echo was clinging to life when Fives was ordered to retreat? What if there was a chance to save him and Fives missed it?

Everything seemed to remind him of Echo. Perhaps it would always be that way—to be haunted by the memories and moments that were never lived. It always hurt losing a brother, but even more so when they were a batchmate. Fives and Echo were a team from day one. Now he was alone: the last of Domino Squad. 

He never pictured this. Not that anyone would willingly imagine themselves in his position. It happened, sure, ... war meant uncertainty. Yet, Fives was so convinced they would always be together. That he, Hevy, Echo, Cutup, and Droidbait would see the war's end. That they would bring victory to the Republic. Maybe Fives would, maybe he wouldn’t. Even if they won the war (with or without him), would it be worth the cost? 

A wave of exhaustion washed over Fives in that moment. The kind of tiredness that didn’t go away with a good night’s rest. It reminded him of how he felt after Echo's death. The coldness in his bones, the weight on his chest, and the hole in his heart. 

There was nothing Fives could say to comfort Boil, to stop the pain. All he could do was be there for him and hope that would be enough. Leaning over, Fives pulled Boil forward and pressed their foreheads together. 

Boil wasn’t a batchmate let alone part of the 501st, but he was still a _vod_ and they were there for each other no matter what. 

“ _Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la_ ,” Fives said, readying himself to swoop in and gather Boil in his arms. 

It’s true clones didn’t like being alone. They were designed to work in teams and spent every moment together. So, yeah, it didn’t take a genius to figure out the psychological ramifications when those same people didn't return. 

“ _Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la_ ,” Boil mimicked before breaking and Fives was there to pick up the pieces. 

* * *

They stood outside bathed in the neon lights, trying to hail a taxi. Even at this hour there was still a considerable amount of traffic. Coruscant was truly the planet that never slept. 

As another taxi sailed past them, Fives rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath. He should’ve known one one was going to pick up two clones. It wasn’t like they had any credits. To the bustling taxi driver, they were a waste of time. 

“Guess we’re walking back to the barracks," he said. 

Boil nodded numbly, gaze looking everywhere but Fives. Not that Fives blamed him. They did share the same face after all. 

Draping an arm around Boil’s shoulder, Fives guided him down the block. Even with a little alcohol in his system, Fives could navigate the city well enough. It was a grid system, which placed the barracks eleven up and one over. Right?

As they grew closer to the barracks, Coruscant's nightlife diluted: the heavy traffic became a trickle of speeders, the sidewalks grew bare, and the other noises faded into the background. 

“It’s quiet uptown,” Boil hiccuped. His cheeks glistened with tears. “I never liked the quiet before.” 

“Waxer—” Boils chokes on his vod ’s name— “Waxer would have liked it. He wanted to live somewhere less busy after the war.” 

Clones didn’t talk about the future often—wouldn’t want to get hopes too high. But when they did? A warm and fuzzy feeling often bloomed in Fives’ chest at the possible futures they conjured up during their sabacc games. Appo thought about settling on a green planet, like Naboo or Dantooine. Somewhere quiet and peaceful and beautiful. Vaughn, on the other hand, dreamed of somewhere with snow. Not like Hoth though. Just somewhere with an annual winter. He would go off to describe his ideal planet in vivid detail: the crisp air, the smell of pine, the way icicles hung from the trees like ornaments. It was almost poetry. 

In all honesty, Fives hadn’t really put much thought into what he wanted to do once this was all over. Before the Citadel mission, he and Echo considered spending the first few years just exploring their favorite places. The 501st never stayed in one place long if they could help it and even when they did, there wasn’t time to really appreciate it. 

“Do you like the quiet, Fives?” 

It took Fives longer to answer than to mull over the question. 

Fives had never been out and about long enough to see Coruscant so empty. It was ... nice. 

“Yeah,” he finally confessed. No more missions, no more deaths. Just him and his _vod_. “I could get used to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Mando'a translation(s): 
> 
> vod = sibling, comrade 
> 
> nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la = not gone, merely marching away


End file.
